Friday, 12 March 2010


I guess this isn’t a topic that most men freely talk about, we don’t have weight problems we have clothing shrinkage issues or at worse admittance to a bit of middle age spread. Normally the domain of all women’s magazines, journals and TV shows weight gain, loss, obesity, anorexia, bulimia, binging, compulsive eating and starvation along with diets ranging from Atkins, Cambridge, Cabbage Soup, Detox, fruit, meat, liquid, solid, air and of course the ‘dust’ diet are discussed as regularly as the changing size of Jordon’s breasts, “how to spice up your love life” and dealing with the menopause.

Men’s magazines (not the top shelf versions) on the other hand talk about the changing size of Jordon’s breasts, football, gadgets, the changing size of Jordon’s breasts, Formula 1, erectile problems (whatever they are), the changing size of Jordon’s breasts and new advancements in Breast enlargements.
Unless you buy a journal dedicated to looking like one of the cast from 300 or one intended for guidance on how to shave your chest and pluck your eyebrows in preparation for a drug induced evening of topless rave dancing - you’re not going to find much in the way of guidance on getting back into a merely obese status rather than a morbidly obese one.

I have to say that for the first 30 or so years of my life I couldn’t put weight on even if wanted to. A day started with a good old English, followed by a mid morning snack of two or three packets of crisps, your 5th cup of sweet tea, half a packet of chocolate digestives in time for fish, chips, curry sauce and half a loaf of buttered bread. This set you up for 10 pints (15 on a weekend) of Guinness, a pack or two of pork scratchings and a midnight visit to the local Indian or Chinese. I have memories of getting home after a night on the town, and demolishing 10 strawberry jam filled donuts before bed and the only weight Increase I would incur would be as the hair grew on my head.

It’s only been the last 3 to 5 years that the merest thought, sniff, or advert on the TV can cause the pounds to pile on. I can’t even drive past a MacDonald’s, KFC or Pizza hut without putting on enough weight to qualify for a support bra these days. Just writing about food has caused my chins to multiply and the desk chair beneath me to break under the strain – Christ knows what may happen if I actually ate some Junk food. It’s become so bad that I have had to categorise what I eat into two elements, food which is bad for me potentially cause\ing my spleen to explode, and...... air - I have even resorted to controlling my breathing, just in case someone identifies that air is worth 15 calories per litre.

I have tried everything to get the dial on the weighing scales to go backwards, well almost everything, well ok almost nothing. I simply can’t be doing with eating boiled cabbage water for breakfast, lunch and dinner; life is just too short to spend it worrying whether about the ‘Tran’s’ fat content of a cucumber slice or the carbohydrate levels in a Ryvita. Don’t get me wrong I have stopped drinking alcohol, eating chocolate, crisps and cookies during the week, now I just stock pile them and gorge myself at the weekend! Strangely my diet isn’t working!! I guess I have to accept that I need to throw away my favourite 10 year old jeans, give up dreams of wearing Lycra and resolve myself to baggy jumpers and elasticated waist trousers.

There are lots of theories as to why weight is gained as we grow older, complacency, gravity, and a slowing down of metabolism. However I put it down to eating too much, drinking too much and under taking all the exercise of a comatosed sloth. I get out of breath these days licking a stamp, or combing my hair. Please don’t get me wrong I have tried exercising I event went out and brought some trainers, got the white socks, and invested in some expensive high tech. exercise equipment, which now reside as useful clothes horses and apparatus for stubbing my toes on when going to bed. I want to get out there and train for a marathon, I used to row for a Dragon Boat team and going even further back swim at quite a high level, but now I consider changing gear a form of exercise (and I drive an automatic!).

Statistics tell us that more people are injured on exercise equipment or whilst jogging, swimming and cycling than watching the TV and eating a takeaway – so in the interest of preserving my health, that’s exactly how I am going to control my weight, stay safe and blame it all on the wife shrinking your clothes!


  1. Alternatively, you could adjust the standard of what's normal.
    A good place to start is Atlanta, Georgia. Try an average Sunday brunchtime diner (such as the Varsity who's claim to fame is 2 miles of hot-dogs every day)and look around... and hey presto you'll feel so good about your size, you won't feel guilty adding a few feet to the statistic.

  2. Brilliant blog - hilariously accurate I'd say!